


Agar Saer

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: 2nd Age - Rings, Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2005-10-02
Packaged: 2018-03-23 09:14:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3762617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A battle for power becomes a battle for survival as the Kingdom of Mirkwood begins to crumble from within. And a young elven prince is caught up in a nightmare world of terror and pain and treachery beyond imagining... </p><p>Rated: R for child abuse and tense situations </p><p>Genre: Angst/Drama/Action-Adventure</p><p>Characters: Legolas, Haldir</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One:

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

Disclaimer: All belongs to Tolkien. Not I. 

** Chapter One: A Family Reunion **

A cool wind rustled through the dark red leaves of the trees. Autumn was fast approaching the elven forest. Everything felt the changing of the seasons even the spiders who disappeared into their warm, black hollows as the icy bite of the wind hinted at the winter to come. 

Hidden in the depths of the dark forest where few interlopers dared tread, nested the elven haven of Mirkwood. Shaped of stone long ago in the image of Nargothrond, the palace was vast with many a narrow hall and convoluted corridor. But many mullioned, emerald colored windows, whimsical fountains and vaulted ceilings gave the place some sense of space and light. The stone walls hung with vibrant tapestries of ages long past, of glorious battles and tales spun in the deeps of time. It was in one of these halls that a group of young elves sported about with each other among the vine-entwined pillars. 

Legolas grinned and raced playfully after his friends. The elves of Mirkwood were in rare high spirits this night for this evening began the festivities and feasts that would last a week or more. The autumnal equinox was upon them- a time when the stars burned brightest and the elves celebrated by setting ablaze the old leaves that fell from the trees in anticipation of the beautiful spring and revival to come. 

Legolas was watching his friend, Rinniad, out of the corner of his eye and didn't see the elf in front of him until he had collided head-on into him. 

"Do try to be careful, young prince!" An irritated voice snapped peevishly. 

"Sorry, Telas!" Legolas laughed at his father's councilor. Telas was an old elf, much revered by the adults, and much made a mockery of by the younger ones. His stuffy manner and overweening demeanor had often been the brunt of no few jokes; and the councilor's person had often fallen afoul of the playful prank or trick that his young students loved to amuse themselves with at his expense. 

Telas took the young elf by the shoulders. 

"Now, young master, why are you still in here? You must be changed and ready before the festivities begin tonight," he admonished. Legolas groaned inwardly. _Of course! The formal start of all the affairs! How could he have forgotten?_

"All right, Telas. I'll go change." Waving goodbye to his friends, Legolas bolted upstairs. If he did not hurry he would soon be late and his father had already chastised him once today for being late to his lessons. 

" _A prince should be on time! Not gallivanting around with his friends_ ," Legolas muttered, echoing his father's severe tone as he hurriedly rebraided his disheveled hair. 

Legolas glanced at himself in the looking glass and though he had not had the time to scrub his face or really comb his hair, he thought he looked passable. Without another thought on it, he dashed back down the stairs and out towards the vast clearing that had been prepared especially for tonight. 

He was just in time. The feast was about to begin. 

He rushed out towards the great clearing and took his seat beside his mother and father. Anariel, the beautiful Queen of Mirkwood, greeted her son lovingly, smoothing a tendril of pale hair from his face. 

After more than an hour, Legolas sat slumped in his chair with his chin in hand, sighing boredly. The festivities were well underway and the young prince was anxious to escape and find his friends. Anariel saw his wistful expression and looked over at her husband chidingly as Legolas shifted restlessly in his seat again. 

"Really, hir nin (my lord). You cannot keep the boy here all night," she remarked to her husband. Thranduil leaned towards her. 

"I can try." 

The sweet, smoky scent of burning leaves filled the air and the ringing tones of elvish singing echoed in the woods. Legolas pulled at the uncomfortable collar strangling him. How he longed to slip into a comfortable tunic and boots and race off through the forest with his friends in search of some entertaining amusements. 

Alas, 'the duty of a prince is with his people,' his father had often- far too often- reminded the young elf. To the prince's mind, he had his entire immortal lifetime to think of his people! The only thing he wanted now was to be with his friends. But, he was stuck until his father released him. 

Legolas glanced idly around the circle of merrymakers. Long wooden tables had been set up, groaning beneath the weight of the harvest. All kinds of fruits vied for place among the tables with freshly baked loaves of bread sending the lingering scent of flour wafting into the air and the King's favorite Dorwinion wine had been brought up from Lake Town especially for the occasion. A magnificent roast boar crowned the head table where the king sat. 

"Come Legolas!" Rinniad shouted to him, beckoning from across the fire. Legolas glanced up at his mother for permission and seeing the gentle smile on the queen's lips and a small nod, the prince considered himself dismissed. 

"You cannot sit beside your father for all of the _Narbeleth_ (sun-waning) festival, can you?" The prince laughed as he seated himself cross-legged beside his friend. 

Suddenly, a pounding of hooves interrupted the beautiful music of elvish singing as several green-clad woodland guards galloped into the clearing. They were careful, however, not to crush the revelers underfoot as they rode right up to the dais where the king sat enthroned. 

"There are riders approaching my lord!" Thranduil raised an eyebrow. He had not been expecting visitors so late in the season when the passes were treacherous. 

"Who are they?" 

"Elves, my lord. But strange… I have never seen their like before…" 

"If I may, my lord," Sarithan, the captain of the border guards, interrupted, stepping forward, his face grave. His sharp dark eyes flickered with an emotion that Thranduil could not quite place and it troubled him. "They are-" But the sharp clear tones of elvish horns ringing out over the great forest cut him short. 

The Elvenking stood as a party of a score of elves or more stepped into the firelight. For the first time in many long centuries, Thranduil looked up in surprise at his estranged brother's face. He was actually Anariel's brother but Thranduil had come to think of the elf as his own family long ago. Years ago they had lost all contact when Thranduil was crowned king after his father had been slain during the Last Alliance and none had heard of him since. Until now. 

Ainan had changed little with the passing of the years as elves are wont to do. 

The deep burnished gold of his hair caught the light of the torches as it fell down to the middle of his back, elegantly pulled back into the braids of elven wayfarers. He was tall and slender as a reed though there was a certain harshness to his features that the wilderness and rigors of long travel had carved into his face. He carried himself with the elegance of royalty and the haughtiness of his race. But warmth was in his gaze as he beheld his sister and brother-in-law. 

Legolas stepped to his parents' side, looking up at the strangers. He barely remembered his uncle, who had left the palace not long after the young child had been born. For what reasons, Legolas did not know and he had not asked for he found that whenever he questioned his mother about her brother, Anariel seemed to become so sad. Legolas had thought for the longest while that his uncle was dead. 

But, no. Here he stood, smiling and waving to those who recognized him and clasping his brother-in-law familiarly by the shoulder. 

"Such a welcome, muindor (brother!)" 

Thranduil nodded with a growing smile. 

"Ainan, mae govannen (well met). This is a surprise. What brings you to my realm?" the Elvenking greeted him, still looking faintly puzzled. Ainan smiled warmly. 

"I have realized the error of my ways and wished to surprise you by arriving before the winter snows and just in time for the autumnal festival! Time can pass by so quickly in the wild! Shall we let bygones by bygones, muindor?" he entreated, his silver-blue eyes bright. "Let us forgive each other and let no ill will pass between us again." Thranduil smiled gently and embraced his brother-in-law firmly. 

"Indeed, muindor. Indeed. Let bygones be bygones." 

So saying, the elf's silver-blue eyes flickered to the woman beside the King. He bowed low to the Queen. 

"My dear sister, you become more beautiful every time I see you," he said with a merry twinkle of his eyes. 

"And you become more the snake charmer," the Queen replied coolly, allowing him to give her a brotherly peck on the cheek. The honey gold of his hair sparkled as he lifted a wine goblet from the long table and seated himself at the king's right side. 

"Tell me," Thranduil asked pleasantly as his brother took a sip from his goblet. "Why the change of heart?" The words were spoken low and still in a friendly, level tone but Legolas, who was the only one close enough to hear the whispered conversation, detected a hint of warning behind his father's voice. _But why_? 

Legolas cast a glance at his mother who sat rigid in her chair, staring straight ahead but seemingly not seeing the bonfire before her or the singing elves. She caught Legolas' worried look though and smiled gently. She kissed him on the forehead. 

"Go on now, ion- nin (my son)," she said. Legolas paused, burning to ask the questions that buzzed around his head but the Queen nudged him. "Go on." 

"Hannon le, naneth (Thank you, mother!)" he muttered back, smiling broadly as he raced off after Rinniad and the others. But inside his mind was in turmoil: _what was his uncle doing here?_

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	2. Chapter Two Chapter Two: To Be Young

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A battle for power becomes a battle for survival as the Kingdom of Mirkwood begins to crumble from within. And a young elven prince is caught up in a nightmare world of terror and pain and treachery beyond imagining...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

** Chapter Two: To Be Young  **

** **

The autumnal sun of late afternoon filtered through the interlacing branches of the trees as a young elf stretched languidly upon the ground, enjoying a few moments' peace. He had been practicing archery with Kirar, his teacher and armsmaster, all day and his arms were pleasantly sore. Legolas didn't mind in the slightest, however. Even Kirar had said he was very skilled with the bow for many youngsters his age and practice had gone well. 

 

He sat up, draping his arms lazily over his knees, enjoying the warm feel of the sun on his face. His sharp eyes caught a flash of silver and he glanced back along the path towards the palace. Trotting towards him, were his two friends with their bows slung over their shoulders and green quivers strapped to their backs. The sunlight gleamed off of the buckles that held their quivers in place. 

   
Rinniad ran up and sprawled beside his friend beneath the shade of the oak tree. 

            

"Kirar set you free at last?" he said laughingly. Lóthmir son of Tirien of the Guard sat down a little more serenely and respectfully greeted the prince who swatted impatiently at him. 

 

            "I saw him practicing on the fields today, Lóthmir. You have some competition," Rinniad remarked. Legolas flushed with embarrassment as the other elf scoffed. Rinniad grinned at Lóthmir. "If you still think that you are the greatest archer in Mirkwood, I would dearly love to see a competition." 

 

"You would- only because you are a swordsman and certainly no archer," Lóthmir said with an impatient wave of his hand. 

 

"I can string a bow faster than you," Rinniad protested, fingering the saber at his side protectively. Lóthmir snorted with laughter. 

 

"Faster than a dwarf _perhaps_." Rinniad rose to his feet, all traces of his former amusement quite evaporated. Legolas groaned inwardly. His friends were constantly fighting with one another and challenging each other to try some ridiculous stunt that almost always ended up getting them in trouble or nearly killed. The last stunt had involved seeing who could climb up the highest on the cliffs near the waterfall and throwing themselves off into the deep pool below. It had ended when Rinniad had broken his arm and nearly drowned in the pounding foam. 

 

                They had arrived home to meet the King- who was beside himself with fury alongside the other boys' fathers and their tearful mothers. The punishment had been worse. After that little mishap, none of them were allowed to spend their hot summer days by the waterfall anymore. His friends always had a habit of getting themselves in trouble and Legolas, who often tried to mitigate their little quarrels to little avail, was usually dragged along into it. 

 

"If you so doubt me, _mellon_ " Rinniad voiced with acerbic irony. "Then let us have a contest. I challenge you to an archery match- just a little friendly game is all." His green eyes glinted in the afternoon sunlight as Lóthmir grinned amusedly up at him. The other elf rose to his feet as Legolas rolled his eyes despairingly, knowing without trying that it would be useless to dissuade them. 

 

"I accept." 

 

"Come, Legolas. You are to be the impartial judge- or if you dare you can attempt to beat me and easily defeat bold but blockheaded Rinniad," Lóthmir invited with a cheeky smile. Rinniad's ear tips flushed red but he stalked past his friend with his head held high. Legolas sighed and acquiesced with a nod. 

 

However, the archery grounds were off limits during other practices so the young elves turned away and saddled their horses. Legolas leapt onto Lintedal, a light-colored and swift mare. Rinniad rode a speckled grey and Lóthmir favored his father's horse- a fine-boned, coal black stallion. Together, they rode out under the canopy of dark trees along the winding dirt path before them. 

            

            "Come! The day is already passing!" Legolas laughed and spurred his steed on ahead of them. Grinning from ear to ear, the two others raced after him. 

 

            "No fair!" 

 

            "You got a head start!" 

 

            They rode hard and had soon put the palace far behind them. They pounded over the enchanted black river and the stone bridge that sprang across it. They rode until the horses tired and they came to a secluded clearing favored for a quiet afternoon. 

 

They tethered their horses to a nearby tree so that they would not accidentally wander into the line of fire and strung their bows. Legolas used a sharpened stick to secure the palm-sized leaf to the tree and stepped back. 

 

            Lóthmir stepped up first and loosed his first arrow. It struck the leaf half an inch to the center. He stepped back and grinned smugly at Rinniad.  The other elf smirked back and drew his own arrow to the string. His arrow struck Lóthmir's from the tree. But according to Legolas, it was still in the same spot so neither was closer than the other. Several of their arrows had already snapped when they struck one another.

 

So it went. 

 

Legolas leaned against a tree, listening idly to their arguing as none could come any closer to beating the other soundly. Only half-paying attention, Legolas gazed out into the dark trees, his blue eyes narrowed against the gloom. That was when he heard it. It was a soft sound, scarcely audible over the hissing of the leaves in the breeze. Legolas leapt forward agilely, an arrow already drawn to his bow and tight to his ear. Rinniad and Lóthmir looked over at his movement, their quarrel forgotten mid-sentence. 

 

            "What is it?" Lóthmir asked excitedly. 

 

            Legolas bounded stealthily forward, hearing the soft grinding noise again. Creeping nearer, he crouched low in the brush. He could see her in the grass, her long neck bent low. The white hind glimmered as she chewed the grass languidly, her long, velvety ears perked for any sound of predators. 

 

The wind changed and the doe lifted her head, sensing the presence of the hunting elves. With a flash of her white tail, she leapt away into the trees but paused still within the sight of the keen-eyed elves as she settled to browse again. 

 

            "Shall we pursue?" Rinniad suggested eagerly, crouching beside his friend. "Our fathers would be pleased if we brought home the evening meal." Legolas felt a smile tug the corners of his lips. He had not yet been on his first hunt. Now, was as good a time as any. He was ready and already had the deer in his sights. But Lóthmir looked unsure. 

 

            "Perhaps we should turn back. It is still a way's ride back to the palace and the hind will be here another day." 

 

Legolas blew out an exasperated breath but he knew his friend was right. 

 

Evening had already crept in upon them unawares. It was very dark beneath the trees and even his keen eyes had difficulty discerning the dark tree limbs from the shadow shapes that skittered across the ground. But Rinniad looked indignant. 

 

"You are just sore that you lost and now you want us to miss out on a chance for such glory! The white hind would truly make a great prize." 

 

Lóthmir shook his head exasperatedly. "We should leave now." 

 

Ignoring him, Rinniad drew his own bead on the doe and eased himself carefully forward. 

 

"Rinniad-" Lóthmir cautioned. Legolas stiffened, realizing too that something was amiss. He seized Rinniad's shoulder. His aim spoiled, the elf loosened his draw and turned to his friend. 

 

"I say, Legolas, no sabotage now!" he chided but the prince wasn't listening.  

 

"Do you hear that?" 

 

"It's just the wind," his friend said impatiently, eager to catch the doe before she escaped.  But Legolas shook his head. 

 

"It was not the wind." 

 

Lóthmir walked closer, realizing that something was very wrong. The forest had gone all too still and the birds were quiet. His eyes darted nervously to where the horses shifted restlessly, whinnying nervously. Without their noticing, the deer had disappeared into the brush, startled into sudden flight. 

 

"I heard it too. The wind howls with wolf voices," he said quietly. The three fledgling warriors exchanged glances, suddenly realizing that they were far farther from home than they had ever intended to come. They were no more than seven miles from the borders where dark things crept into the elven-inhabited land. 

 

A soft, menacing growl reached their ears and they all tensed. Immediately, they faced outwards with their backs to each other. As one, they drew arrows to their strings and waited. 

 

Yellow eyes gleamed at them from out of the brush, winking out here and there only to reappear- nearer and more numerous. They formed a semi-circle around the three young elves, edging in closer. Legolas let one arrow fly and it buried itself in the neck of a wolf creeping out of the brush. The rest of the pack sprang forward and arrows whined through the air like angry hornets as the other two elves loosed them. 

 

Wolves crumpled heavily to the earth as the remaining others broke off their attack, circling back out of range of the arrows as they disappeared behind the trees. For a long moment, a tense silence reigned. The elves still stood with their bows ready and their eyes unceasingly searching the trees for any signs of their attackers. 

 

"Are they gone?" Rinniad asked, tentatively lowering his bow. 

 

Suddenly, Lóthmir staggered backwards. Legolas whirled round and felt the bottom drop out of his stomach as he saw the crude arrow lodged in his friend's chest. He whirled round as vicious laughter and high-pitched screeching reached his ears. A scattering of orcs, attracted by the hungry wolves' howls and in anticipation of a fresh kill, leered at them from the trees. Legolas and Rinniad drew their respective blades as the orcs charged in too close to use their arrows. 

 

Rinniad drew his saber and thrust it through the stomach of an attacking orc. Tearing a knife from his boot he flung it into the throat of another coming in on his heels. He, ducking under the lunging attack of another of the goblins, sliced it across the ribs as it overlunged past him. Glancing around for a sight of his friends, Rinniad waded through the thick of the battle to where Lóthmir was beset by three. The arrow shaft in his chest had snapped as he valiantly tried to keep them at bay with the few remaining arrows left in his quiver. 

 

Suddenly, Legolas appeared out of nowhere and sliced into the first two before they realized what was happening. His white knives flashing in a whirling attack, he clove the orcs' necks in twain. Black blood spurted from the wounds as the goblins dropped heavily to the ground. 

 

            The other orcs, seeing that their easy kill would not be so easy to kill, bolted. The wolves too had turned away from the grim-faced elves and leapt ravenously upon the wounded and dead orcs strewn around the clearing. 

 

            Legolas and Rinniad waited tensely, sweat sliding down their foreheads and sides from exertion, sucking in ragged breaths as they kept their backs to each other. After several long moments, the forest was silent and still once more. Slowly, the elves relaxed and turned to their wounded companion. 

 

Legolas and Rinniad bent down and lifted their friend to his feet. His face was very pale almost ashen and the arrow had lodged itself near his first rib and had pierced the tough leather armor that any sensible warrior wore beneath his tunic during archery practice. The wound was not deep nor vitally buried as Legolas inspected it. The shaft had been too large to actually pierce his ribs and bled only a little. Still, it was painful and it would be better that they get it taken care of sooner rather than later. It was very dark now. 

 

            "We must get back," Legolas said urgently, slinging himself beneath his friend's arm to support him. Rinniad untied the horses that had not pulled themselves free. Their eyes were so wide with fear that he could see the whites and they were sweating and shaking uncontrollably. Lóthmir's black steed, Rhûn, lay dead- riddled with the slashes the wolves' fangs had opened in his sides. Two orcs lay close by, their skulls bashed in by a horse's sharp hooves. 

 

            "My father is going to kill me," Lóthmir moaned as Legolas and Riiniad managed to heave their half-conscious friend up onto Lintedal. Legolas mounted behind him, wrapping an arm securely about his waist so he wouldn't fall. 

 

"Don't worry. I'll just tell him you saved my life," he whispered reassuringly. They rode as quickly as they could back towards the palace but it was a good hour before the palace edged back into their view. Rinniad looked down at Lóthmir who was still thankfully conscious. The three friends exchanged glances and laughed uneasily. 

 

            "You know we'd be in so much trouble if our fathers found out where we were," Rinniad said, his ear tips still flushed pink from their impromptu fight and flight. 

 

            "Prince Legolas!" a voice hailed. 

 

            "Oh no," Legolas groaned, dismayed as Telas stalked towards him, his face a mask of rage. " _Where_ have you been? We've all been worried sick and your father was ready to-"

 

            "I know, Telas! I know. I'm sorry! We lost track of the time," Legolas said quickly, trying to head the irate elf off before he could move into a full-blown tirade. He knew he would probably be on the receiving end of one from his father anyway. 

 

            "Your father is furious, I might add," Telas said sourly, right on cue. Then he caught sight of the semi-conscious Lóthmir and his angered expression swiftly changed to one of alarm. 

 

            "By Elbereth! What happened?" he asked, rushing forward as Rinniad helped his friend down from the horse. 

 

            "We were caught by wolves," he explained shortly. "You go on to the King, Legolas. I'll see that he gets to the healers." 

 

Legolas nodded glumly and trudged towards his father's chambers, Lóthmir's proud protests that he could still walk following him up to the enchanted doors. 

 

~*~

 

            " _What_ were you thinking? You could have been injured! You could have been _killed_! Do you realize how worried you have made your mother?" Thranduil gazed down at his son sternly, his arms crossed over his chest. 

 

Legolas stared down at his mud-spattered boots shame-faced. 

 

            "You cannot go gallivanting off into the forest alone without- "

 

            "I was not alone," Legolas interrupted indignantly. "Rinniad and Lóthmir were with me!" Thranduil, instead of looking relieved, turned livid. 

 

            "And you endangered their lives as well with your foolishness! Lóthmir, I am told, was wounded!" Thranduil took a deep breath as though to calm himself as he saw the guilt and sorrow flash across his young son's face. He walked down the dais and gently took his son by the shoulders. 

 

            "Legolas, you are responsible for your actions." The prince nodded miserably. 

 

            "I know." 

 

            "I do not wish to lose you. You are far too important to me, your mother and your people," the King said sternly, his blue eyes flashing at the errant prince who stood scuffing the ground with the toe of a well-worn boot. "I want you to stay close to the palace now. From now on until I say otherwise, you will stay within sight of the palace at all times and go no further into the forest than the edge of the river." Legolas' head shot up. 

 

            "Adar, that is not fair!" 

 

            "What you did today is not fair! You were nearly killed! Does that mean nothing to you?" Thranduil insisted. "I want you close so that someone will be nearby to protect you should anything go ill. And it usually does with you," he added severely. 

 

Legolas averted his eyes, his chest tightening with anger. _His father was treating him like a child! He was old enough to care for himself! They had fought off the wolves, hadn't they? And no one had been killed!_

Guessing some of these thoughts,Thranduil sighed deeply, massaging his temples to try to quell the throbbing ache he felt gathering between them. 

 

            "Go on," he waved a hand towards the door. "I shall see you later at dinner." 

 

            Bowing stiffly, Legolas turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. He glared at the floor bad-temperedly as he walked slowly down the hall, only bothering to look up as the soft sound of elven boots reached his ears. Rinniad walked up to his friend, his face grieved. 

 

            "I am so sorry, Legolas. It was my fault Lóthmir was hurt. I goaded you into going on." Legolas smiled slightly and clasped his friend's shoulder. 

 

            "We were all at fault, mellon nin- none more so than the others. Lóthmir will heal and then we'll see which of you is the better archer next time. Although-" the two friends began to walk down the corridor. "you know, of course, had I partaken in the challenge that I would have won." Rinniad laughed and cuffed his friend lightly across the head. 

 

            "Only in your wildest fantasies princeling!" 

 

~*~

 

            Legolas followed Rinniad into the healers' wing. There were rows of doors stretching down a vast hall leading to rooms of healing. Many stood empty these days as attacks on the guard had subsided with the decreasing of the orcs. A healer led them down the hall and stopped at a door on the right. She opened it with a smile and allowed them to go in. 

 

            Long windows spilled bright sunlight into the room and added a sense of cheer. The orange afternoon light slanted down onto a large, comfortable-looking bed and on it lay Lóthmir, looking alert and awake and very glad to see his friends. 

 

            "At last!" he exclaimed in greeting, struggling to sit up. White bandages wrapped around his chest but he grinned at his friends as they pulled up chairs beside him. 

 

            "How are you feeling, mellon nin?" Legolas asked, relieved to see his friend was all right. Lóthmir was still rather pale but he looked better than he had a few hours ago. The younger elf shrugged, wincing only slightly as he pulled at his injury.  

 

            "Fine." 

 

            "You know just because you were hurt, does not mean that you won the archery contest. Next time, I _will_ win," Rinniad said. 

 

            A universal groan from the others met his ears and the indignant look on his face made his friends laugh. Soon he joined in and the youthful merriment echoed through the healers' ward. 

 

~*~

 

            "Find anything interesting?" 

 

Legolas started, dropping the book he had been perusing. "Oh, Vedhir! You startled me!" He gave a sigh of relief as his uncle bent down and retrieved it. "I- I didn't see you there." 

 

            Ainan smiled as he handed it back, stepping out of the shadows between the tall, dusty shelves as they stood within the vast library where Legolas and Rinniad had been banished when the healer said they were getting too rowdy. 

 

            "How are your studies going, tôrion?" Legolas accepted his book with a nod of thanks. 

 

            "They are… going well," he said, not quite meeting his uncle's eyes. He had not had much time for his books as his warrior training progressed and his father had been avoiding him of late- _busying himself with the preparations for his next hunt_ he supposed sourly. _Or maybe he was still angry with him because of his "foolishness" earlier_. 

 

            He looked up at Ainan for a moment. The elf and his companions had been staying in the palace for several weeks now and this was the first that the younger elf had seen of his estranged uncle. He surely did not think that Ainan would seek him out. But, again, here he had appeared, mysteriously or so it seemed. 

 

            Ainan smiled slightly as he perched on the edge of a window ledge. It overlooked the gardens; and the high boxwood hedges gleamed with spider silk and white flowers. The sweet scent drifted up to them through the open shutters and Legolas breathed it in peacefully, feeling his troubled thoughts ease a little. 

 

            "I heard what happened yesterday," Ainan remarked casually. Legolas frowned, his momentary happiness evaporating. 

 

            "My father insists on treating me…" he trailed off, biting back a sharp answer. His uncle smiled gently at his near outburst. 

 

            "Like a child?" he finished. "Yes. He doesn't believe you can do anything without your hand being held." Legolas nodded sullenly, leaning back against the stone wall beside his uncle. 

 

            "I just wish he'd…" 

 

            "Treat you like an adult." Legolas looked up at his uncle as if he'd read his thoughts. 

 

            "Yes." Ainan smiled and clapped his nephew on the shoulder. 

 

            "You may need a little more discipline, young prince. But I believe that you are old enough now to understand the consequences of your actions and to accept the punishment those actions may incur. However, I do believe your father is wrong to treat you so childishly when you have infinitely proven yourself to be a skilled and intelligent warrior." Legolas swelled with pride. 

 

            "I have seen your skill on the archery grounds," Ainan continued. "I would be delighted to aid you in furthering your talents." Legolas looked up in a mixture of shock and delight at his uncle. 

 

            "Truly?" Ainan smiled at the child's eagerness. 

 

            "Certainly. I do have other business to attend to but in my spare time- I would be happy to instruct you." Legolas nodded fervently. His uncle's offer surprised him but it would be a nice change from stuffy Kirar and he could become more acquainted with his estranged uncle. 

 

            "I'd like that," he said. Ainan smiled then his gaze flickered down the hall. "I believe someone is expecting you, tôrion." Legolas followed the other elf's gaze. Rinniad was waiting for him at the end of the hall, motioning towards him. 

 

            "I'll see you later, Vedhir," Legolas said. Ainan smiled and gestured for the prince to go on. 

 

            "Of course you will." 

 

            The elf's silver blue eyes, so akin to his sister's, nailed themselves to the prince's back, watching him until he passed around the corner and out of sight. _Yes, Legolas would do nicely_ e break very long chapters up to avoid truncation.


End file.
